The Romance of Children
by The Narcissus Pool
Summary: [FE8] A scene from the memoirs of General Seth, of his first encounter with the princess. Plot eventually, right now just drabble.


I have an idea of where this might lead, so I might add more later, but right now it's just one-shot drabbly fluff. Please leave comments if you have them, for good or ill... thanks! 

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The Romance of Children

I never had a reputation for lecturing before Renais fell. Quite the opposite, in fact: my promotions had been accelerated because I had both flawless etiquette with my superiors and a generous bearing with my subordinates. While among the men I commanded, I cared not for my title, my accolades, nor the absurd, mythical notoriety that had preceded me to every general in the five kingdoms . . . an attitude I had adopted from King Fado, no doubt. And yet it was the presence of this same attitude in the King's children that reawakened the stick-rapping governess in me.

I say reawakened because I know it has always been there, buried under His Majesty's influence upon me. I had been conscious of it as early as my twelfth year, when my parents had taken me to the capital to enroll in the King's army as a recruit. It was there that my sullen, serious demeanor came in sharp relief to the more eager attitudes of my peers. I imagine it had come from my years spent as a page in service to my great uncle, a retired captain of His Majesty's personal guard, and a rather grave individual in his own right.

After that first summer of training in the capital, we recruits were given leave to return home for a short time before beginning squire duties. His Majesty came to inspect us on the last day before our departure. The supervising lieutenant had started us on lance drills before his arrival, and had us aligned in a phalanx that covered the field between the palace courtyard and the road to the mountains in the north. I was not quite in the middle, six rows back and four from the right side, and in no position of particular importance at that time, other than that the recruits around me gave me a somewhat wider berth because I was tall and long-armed.

I can only speculate as to the exchange of words that led His Majesty to summon me before him on that day.

"Who do you like this year, Lieutenant?"

"Ah, well, Wilhelm here in the front has a strong sword arm, and that blond one there on the end, Damascus, he's got pinpoint accuracy . . . not very quick though . . . but if it's a leader you seek, Your Majesty, look no further than that tall redheaded lad in the middle. Very disciplined, very serious; I've seen none like him before. The young men mostly defer to him in war games, I find."

"A disciplined redhead, you say?" He would laugh. "Are you certain he's not a mercenary spy from the east?"

"Oh no sir, Your Majesty, we're certain."

Here there would be a hesitation. "Good family?"

"Yes, sire, a legacy. Nearly all his kin are paladins, I hear. The father served in the northern border guard until he took a bad injury two winters past. Barely missed promotion."

"Ah, yes, I remember. Bring the boy to me, will you?"

When the lieutenant came to fetch me out of the drill formation, I recall assuming that they were having me examined by a higher officer to judge if I were sincere, or perhaps if I were insane—I had unnerved many a man before this lieutenant by my seriousness. I was not expecting to be presented to King Fado, but as in all things, my practiced manners were well prepared.

I lowered my head to him and genuflected, laying my spear on the ground. "Your Majesty." I did not see him nod his head to me, though I knew he must have done so. I was looking at the ground, at the iron toe of his boots. Beside them, at his heel, I saw two tiny club-footed silk slippers.

"Rise, recruit, and tell me your name," the King said to me. I stood, ramrod straight, and fixed my eyes on his nose. I did not look to see who owned the slippers. I was caught minutely off guard by his friendly expression, but you would never have known it to look at me.

"My name is Seth, Your Majesty; my father was Sir Rishon."

"Yes, yes, I remember him well. An excellent man; I wish I might have retained him a while longer." He smiled kindly. "If I may say, you don't much resemble him, but the lieutenant here says you are a credit to him."

"I hope so, sire."

"He seems to think you have the makings of a leader in my army. An interesting comment to make of a recruit."

"If you wish it, sire, I would only serve you to the fullest degree."

He laughed. I can only imagine how ridiculous I must have sounded.

There was a tug on his sleeve and he looked down. So fixated was I on his attention that I could not help being drawn to what it was he looked at. And that was the first time I saw her.

She could not have learned to walk long before. She tottered a little on her tiny legs, clutching a bundle of white daisies in her hands—she seemed to be winding them into something. I knew, from the way she held her chin, from the color of her hair, from the way King Fado smiled at her that she must have been the princess.

"What is it, Eirika?" he asked. He did not try to keep the fountaining affection from his voice.

She handed him a fistful of her flowers, then immediately set about weaving the others more tightly together. She was working so intently that she had to sit down; her little legs could not stand so much fervor. His Majesty grinned and looked again at me. It took me a moment to snap to attention.

"Seth, this is my daughter, Princess Eirika."

I faced her and bowed at the waist. "My lady." She did not seem very interested in me, as she never once glanced up from her work.

After a moment, King Fado began to speak. I found it difficult to regard him, standing there as he was with a fistful of daisies. "Well, Seth, with the lieutenant's recommendation I shall have you assigned to a knight worthy of your dedication. I have no doubt you will be a peerless squire."

"Your Majesty is too generous to me," I said, bowing my head.

"My Majesty," he said, smiling wryly in a way I would become well accustomed to in him and in Prince Ephraim, "Is always compelled to remember from whence his strength comes. Now, I—what is it, Eirika?"

The little princess was tugging on the hem of his tunic to get him to look down at her, but once she had his full attention, she turned instead to look at me. She held up what she had made, a garland of daisies, and smiled.

For a moment, I did not breathe. My parents had instructed me very diligently in the proper way to accept praise from my superiors, but they had never mentioned anything about the admiration of little girls. The princess looked at me so intensely with her bottomless blue eyes that I could do nothing but fall to my knees beside my spear.

This seemed to be what she was waiting for. She placed the garland on my head like a crown and grinned. I can't imagine I didn't look dumbstruck. I was charmed out of my mind.

The king was as speechless as I for several heartbeats. Then, at last, he said: "What's this, Eirika? An accolade for our noble recruit?"

She held my gaze a moment longer. Then she turned smartly and giggled up at her father. "His hair is nice."

The lieutenant moved me to the front row of the phalanx after that so His Majesty could observe my technical skills. I left the garland on the entire time to please the princess. Even at that age, I had a great fondness for the innocence of very young children. Innocence made my severity look so wicked in comparison that I longed to preserve it in others. I wanted to keep her happy for as long as I was able, though it was very likely that I would never set eyes on her again.

Eventually the lieutenant called an end to our drills, and King Fado and the princess left as I packed my equipment. My mother and father had both come to collect me. They had spent the day visiting my father's old companions from the border guard who had been reassigned to the capital. I had not thought to remove the garland—the other recruits were too unnerved by me to taunt me about it, which would have reminded me to—until my parents approached me.

"What in oblivion is that?" my father asked me, nudging it to one side on my head. "Not some hazing nonsense, is it? You haven't gone and embarrassed yourself?"

"Oh, certainly not!" my mother fretted.

I slipped it off my head and looked at it, looked at how it sat on my hands. "It was a gift from the Princess of Renais," I said.

Mother gasped at this. "The princess!" she breathed.

"Noticed by the royal family already!" my father boomed.

"She's only a child," I murmured, but that did not seem to be off-putting to their enthusiasm. They talked of nothing else the whole way back to my grandfather's castle, a journey that went well into the night, and they insisted on showing off the garland to my cousins and kin as proof that I had been appointed to a higher destiny. We'll have a general in the family yet, they said. I discarded the garland as soon as I was able, disgusted with looking at it. I wish now that I had not done so.


End file.
